Powers That I Can't Control
by Seraphina125
Summary: My name is Amanda Collins. I'm a walking time bomb. And when I blow up, I kill everyone.
The 6 year old girl with silky black curls and unusual violet eyes stood in the middle of the classroom, trying to pass unnoticed. Her small form was trembling with fear. She was never good with people. In fact, she would be much more comfortable alone. Sadly, her parents had never really paid her much attention, and she knew that even if they did, they wouldn't care. She knew that much. She was thankful to not have her parents' attention for if she did, she was sure they would abandon her. They preached normalcy, and her powers were the exact opposite of that. She was thankful no one had noticed yet. She was practicing in secret, but never too much. To get noticed was practically a death sentence. There would be people wanting to experiment on her, people trying to control her... Amanda felt a tingle of fear traveling down her spine just thinking about it. She had seen the others get captured, seen the political plays. She was better off hidden. She had a better life than most because her parents were rich, always working. So here Amanda was, in the middle of a classroom, in kindergarten. She really wanted to cry but she willed herself not to. This wasn't worth it. Nobody had seen her cry, and she certainly wasn't going to start now.

Unfortunately, one of the teachers noticed the little girl who was not interacting with the others, the little girl who stared at the floor with a blank face, the little girl who was trembling and had her fists clenched. He walked over to her, apparently deciding that everyone had to socialize. "What's your name?"

"A-Amanda Collins." She wanted to hit her self for stuttering. She must not show any weakness. Showing weakness attracted pity and scorn. She did not need any pity, nor did she need any bullies. This was unacceptable.

"Amanda, you have to meet the others." The teacher replied, gently tugging Amanda along to a group of children playing the corner. Amanda looked at them. So innocent, so naive. Not knowing the horrible, cold truths of this world. They would not understand. Nobody ever did. Nobody ever will.

"No. I want to go home. Please?"

Amanda's protests fell on deaf ears. She scowled and glared at the teacher, who kept saying that Amanda needed some friends. Idiots. They all were. She couldn't have any friends, why wouldn't they accept that? No. Please. Amanda's breaths came in short gasps as she another vision. She saw herself pale, lying on the floor covered in blood with the children crowded around her. From what she could see, this time she was shot. The killer had left the scene moments before. She grimaced. The killer was always clouded from her. She knew that the vision would become reality if she allowed the teacher to have his way. This happened many times before-seeing something happen moments before they did. It was how she kept out of trouble.

"NO, DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Everybody was staring at her now, making her feel self conscious, which was the last thing she should be worrying about. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes, so she blinked hard and stared at the floor, still breathing hard. But one of the idiotic teachers walked towards her again, thinking she was just some spoiled girl having a temper tantrum. She didn't have time for this! Why wouldn't they ever listen to her? Morons.

"NO!"

Amanda felt her arm tingling again, and knew she had lost control. The rage and panic combined into this. She was scared of this. She couldn't control it no matter how hard she tried. Every object in the room started to crumble. The room was shaking uncontrollably. No one would have thought a 6 year old girl was doing this. Everyone panicked. Oh no. This was bad. Amanda felt her energy draining and knew she had to get out of here but forced herself to appear calm in front of them.

No good letting them know anything else. First things first.

"I was never here. I never existed." Amanda repeated forcefully, reaching out and taking their memories before running out of the room. She banished the golden wisps of memory. Memory wisps were either blue or gold. Blue was rarer than gold and was special for some reason but Amanda never dared to find out why in fear of being noticed. If she stayed longer, she knew she would have seen all the children and teachers' eyes glazing over. And from that day on, Amanda Collins isolated herself even more.


End file.
